


Under the Lake

by dirtyuncle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gillyweed, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Sex, Merpeople, Monstergirl, Mythical Beings & Creatures, PWP, Smut, Underwater
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-03 19:07:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12152937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtyuncle/pseuds/dirtyuncle
Summary: Harry makes a new friend during the second task of the Triwizard Tournament. Harry/mermaid.





	1. Chapter 1

Harry's elongated feet propelled him through the cool water with ease as he craned his neck in search for any sign of the hostages. The murky twilight was no obstacle for his keen eyes, his ears sensed the slightest fluctuations in the surroundings, and he moved with the grace of an experienced swimmer. He was anything but, of course—it was all thanks to gillyweed, a truly miraculous plant that Dobby had provided at the very last minute. It transformed him into someone who was right at home a hundred feet underwater. He was powerful, self-assured, and his body seemed to know what to do better than his mind did.

It was not at all strange, then, that when his tongue tasted a metallic tang he somehow knew to be blood, he used his webbed palms to turn smoothly to the direction the odor was coming from. While he doubted Dumbledore would have allowed Ron and the others to come to any real harm, Harry still had to make certain it wasn't his friend who was hurt.

The silty lakebed below was gradually concealed by tangled weeds, growing taller and taller until they almost brushed his stomach, rippling gently at his passing. His heart beat faster, not so much from exertion as from some primal emotion he couldn't name. The taste of blood was stronger now, as revolting as it was electrifying, and his hand inched towards the wand in his trouser pocket.

There was a muted, squelching sort of sound coming from his left, followed by a short-lived current he felt with his entire skin. Changing course deftly, he darted upwards, then froze as an unexpected sight opened up before him.

There was a clearing in the thicket below, an irregular circle where the twisting weeds had been flattened, and at its bottom was a mermaid surrounded by a swarm of grindylows. She clutched an obsidian blade in her dainty hand as she twirled her tail to spin on the spot, glaring at the water demons darting to and fro, their tentacles billowing, and their maws baring hundreds of needle-like teeth.

Without warning, a grindylow behind her back extended its spindly fingers and swooped down. The mermaid whirled to meet it, and her gleaming dagger sliced open its belly, staining the water crimson. The creature was immediately set upon by its own pack, its fellows sinking their fangs into its greenish flesh, and the mermaid beat her tail mightily to escape through the momentary gap in their encirclement. The remaining grindylows screeched and lunged after her, and Harry, finally regaining his faculties, pulled out his wand and aimed it at the pursuers.

As though sensing his movement, the mermaid rounded on him and froze, her startlingly purple eyes widening, and her long violet hair spreading out like a halo at her abrupt halt. The grindylows pounced. Their crooked claws scrabbled at her lustrous blue scales to no effect, but her humanoid upper half wasn't equipped with such protection, and one of the critters tore at her arm, leaving a red slash across her pale blue skin. She let out a pained trill and beat her tail again, knocking several grindylows aside and swinging her blade wildly at the rest.

"Relashio!" Harry cried, hearing a deep and vibrating voice quite unlike his usual escape his throat. The spell also underwent a change, shooting out from his wand as a jet of boiling water—yet it was no less potent, knocking away a grindylow that had latched onto the poor mermaid's tail fin. "Relashio, Relashio!"

Noticing a new threat, the grindylows swooped towards his extended wand hand. Harry yanked it back and instead punched with his left, and the critter he hit floated away in a daze, its numerous tentacles roiling haphazardly. He thrust his wand at another, snapping its neck backwards with a point-blank _Depulso_.

There was a sharp pain in his ankle, and he ducked his head to find a grindylow sinking its teeth into his flesh. Snarling, he kicked at its skull, and grimaced when it crunched under his heel. Swimming upwards, he frantically looked around for more enemies, but the grindylows seemed to have had enough; with hateful screeches, the remnants of the pack retreated into the forest of weeds.

He trained his wand downwards, watching for movement between the swaying plants, then released a shaky breath which came out in a trail of bubbles. His ankle stung and his heart was thumping in his chest, but he couldn't help his lips curling into a triumphant grin. He didn't know what had riled up the supposedly cowardly creatures enough to attack an armed opponent, but he'd given them a fight they wouldn't soon forget.

Satisfied that he was safe for the time being, Harry raised his head. The mermaid was watching him warily and inching away as she clutched her injured arm. The water around her wound was clouded crimson.

"You're hurt!" He kicked towards her. "Here, let me—"

Screeching sharply, she brandished her blade in his direction with her undamaged hand. He stilled, momentum continuing to carry him forward, and racked his brain for a method to explain his intentions. Then he slapped his forehead and bent his knee to raise his ankle, getting a first look at the myriad of tiny punctures on his skin which oozed blood. Making sure he had her attention, he aimed his wand at his wounds.

"Episkey."

A subdued golden light erupted from the wandtip, and a wave of heat washed over his foot. Harry watched with satisfaction as the punctures mended before his very eyes. Straightening up, he rotated his ankle experimentally, and grinned when he felt no pain.

"See?" he said, smiling. "I can do the same for you, if you just let me."

Peering at him cautiously, the mermaid fluttered her fin to stop in place, and lowered her weapon a fraction. Taking that as an invitation, Harry slowly swam closer, raising his hands to show he meant peace. As he approached, he was struck by how young she looked; due to her long, lissome tail putting her above his height, he had pegged her as an adult, but he could now see she was a girl about his own age, all lanky limbs and large fearful eyes. Were it not for her unusual coloring, she might have passed for a Hogwarts student above the waist.

Only several feet separated them now, and the taste of her blood was becoming oppressive. Eager to heal her, Harry aimed his wand at the arm she was cradling to her chest. She twitched at his motion, and bending at the waist, sprung forward to press her dagger to his neck. Her lips drew back to bare her teeth, revealing slightly elongated fangs.

"Whoa!" Harry gulped, feeling the cold edge graze his skin. "C-calm down. It's okay. It's okay..."

He felt as though he was trying to tame a feral beast, and had to suppress a hysterical giggle at the less-than-favorable comparison. Gripping his wand, which had nearly slipped from his fingers at her sudden lunge, he ever so carefully lowered its tip to her still-bleeding wound. She warbled something that sounded like a warning, and he felt the pressure against his neck increase.

"Episkey," he murmured, barely moving his lips.

There was a flash of gold, and the water between them warmed. The mermaid drew back with a cry, and holding the dagger before her, scrutinized her arm. The apprehension on her face was replaced by wonder as she prodded her now-healthy skin. She lifted her head to stare at him, lowering her weapon at last.

"See? Nothing to it," he said with a grin. His gaze inadvertently flicked to her modest chest, no longer covered by her arm, and it took an almost physical effort to wrench his eyes away. "Uh... It was nice meeting you. Gotta go now—bye!"

Grimacing at his awkward farewell and trying futilely to get the image of her naked form out of his mind, Harry pivoted and zoomed off in a random direction. As his legs kicked a steady rhythm, he struggled to focus on the immediate task: namely, finding his best mate and getting back to the surface. There would be time to daydream about pretty mermaids later.

Glancing around, he found that he'd covered some distance during his disgraceful retreat, and the mass of weeds below was thinning out again. Realizing too late that he didn't know which direction he was heading, he groaned and slowed down, squinting at the bottom where the plants were being progressively replaced by rocks. Lacking a better plan, he figured he'd simply follow the slope of the lakebed, as Hermione had told him that the merpeople village was located at the deepest part.

Preoccupied as he was, even his preternaturally acute senses took a while to notify his brain of the currents produced by a rapidly approaching object. He turned to look and gaped.

 _Breasts_. Glorious pale mounds, perky and smooth, with small nipples pointing straight at him—

A lilting tune startled him out of his reverie, and he tilted his head to meet the mermaid's purple eyes. She spoke in her melodious tongue again, her tone full of curiosity and perhaps a hint of concern. Harry snapped his jaw shut and schooled his expression, unintentionally picking up speed. She matched him effortlessly, swimming alongside as she continued to stare.

He cleared his throat. "Look, if you wanted to thank me, there's no need. It's my fault you got hurt in the first place."

She frowned, showing no sign of understanding. He kicked the speed up another notch. His thighs were beginning to burn and he doubted he could keep this pace up for long.

Gliding closer, she grasped his shoulder, and the unexpected contact made him stop in his tracks. She then reached for his hand with both of hers and pulled him towards herself. Finding himself in such proximity to her bare body, Harry didn't know where to look, so he settled for her eyes.

She peered back, then chirped something at him.

"I'm busy right now," he said, attempting to liberate his hand without being too forceful. "My friend's been taken."

She spoke more insistently and yanked him again, reinforcing the motion with a sweep of her tail which sent both of them sailing. Finally comprehending her intention, Harry looked down at the lakebed, then back at her. The direction she was pulling him in was at best perpendicular to the slope.

"I'm supposed to go to the middle of the lake."

The mermaid scrunched her brows, then brightened up. "Fol-low," she spoke in a deliberate, drawn-out manner.

He blinked. "You know English?"

"Follow," she repeated, tugging his arm.

He glanced at the deepening waters he had been heading towards, then at the mermaid's guileless expression. "Oh, what the hell," he muttered, and gestured with his hand. "Lead the way."

Her face lit up with a smile that did funny things to his insides, and she turned around and set off. He powered after her, hoping he wasn't making a huge mistake.

They swam in silence. The mermaid stayed ahead and glanced over her shoulder occasionally to make sure he was still following. Her body undulated harmoniously, slipping through the water with nary an effort, and leaving Harry's earlier confidence about his own skill in shambles. He trailed her with dogged strength, feeling like a clumsy oaf in comparison.

A colossal dark shape loomed ahead, and it quickly became apparent that it was their destination. As they approached, it resolved into a craggy rock formation, coated with algae and riddled with cracks and crevices. His guide dived towards a shadowy cave mouth at its base before beckoning him closer.

Harry descended, eyeing the dark entrance suspiciously. When the mermaid darted inside, he made no move to follow, and she emerged again in half a minute, warbling at him with obvious exasperation. Her eyes followed his wary gaze to her dagger, now tied to her forearm with a twine, and she threw her head back to let out a musical laugh, startling him with how human-like it sounded. Untying the blade, she darted forward, and before he could even draw his wand, shoved it into his palm hilt-first.

"Follow," she said, smiling at him toothily before heading back down.

Harry glanced at the vicious weapon in his hand, then sighed and did as asked. He did draw his wand—for light, not because he was _afraid_ of her—and whispered a _Lumos_ as he entered the cave. The mermaid's blue scales glinted ahead, and as he followed her gingerly, his sideways glances revealed nothing but greenish walls and an occasional crevice, too small for a person to slip through. Some tension left his body, and he shortened the distance between them, feeling the eddies spawned by the strokes of her tail swirl around him.

As they traveled through the narrow passage, the water gradually grew brighter. Harry extinguished his wand and squinted curiously. The light was given off by countless tiny motes, almost too small to be made out individually, their faint glow merging together. The flavor of the water was also changing; what it tasted of, he wasn't certain, but he intuitively knew that there was life ahead, and lots of it. His fingers tightened on his wand as some of his wariness returned.

The mermaid glanced over her shoulder and chirped right before they navigated a sharp bend and were bathed in bright light. Shielding his eyes, he glanced around and couldn't help the gasp that escaped his lips. Appearing pleased with his reaction, the mermaid swept her arm in a grand gesture and sang out what had to be the name of the place: _Nereithys_ , as was the closest Harry could get to its true pronunciation.

Perched high upon the rock they had emerged on, they were overlooking an underwater valley and the hundreds of round stone buildings scattered therein. They tended to be taller than they were wide, and had oval openings covered by curtains of braided yarn and iridescent beads. The place teemed with activity that would've put Hogsmeade to shame; some merfolk tended to what appeared to be gardens, others frolicked through the labyrinthine streets, and others still, he was surprised to see, were feeding grindylows—tamed ones, presumably. And everything was awash in light which would've undoubtedly looked lackluster to a human, but was as brilliant as that of a midday sun to his hypersensitive eyes.

He was startled out of his examination by the dulcet tones of his guide, and pivoted to find her pointing a clawed finger towards the periphery of the village. Squinting in that direction, he discovered an ornamental column surrounded by a gaggle of merfolk. His heart leapt in his chest when he spied Ron's mop of red hair in their midst, and he beamed at the mermaid who'd led him here.

"Thank you," he said, trying to convey his gratitude through his tone. "I s'ppose—well, I suppose this is it." He turned to take off, then wheeled about on an impulse. It seemed a shame to leave just like that. "Hey, what's your name?"

She tilted her head, making her hair sway.

"Of course, you wouldn't understand," he said, irritated with his own stupidity. "Er, how about this..." Pointing his thumb at himself, he articulated, " _Harry_."

The mermaid blinked under his intense stare, then pointed hesitantly at him. "Har-ree," she sang.

Harry pumped his arm. "Yes! What about you?" He jabbed his finger at her in a manner that would've been considered rude on land, but he was too caught up in the moment to care.

She parted her lips to let out a short sequence of sounds that evoked images of cold, crystal-clear water, and he knew that he had no hope of replicating it with his tongue.

He tried anyway. "Maira?"

She cocked her head, something between a nod and a shrug, and repeated the word.

"Maira." He scowled in frustration at how woefully crude his imitation sounded.

She giggled and came closer, and the infectious smile on her face cleared his frown. "Har-ree," she sang again, and there was something in her voice that made his heart skip a beat. His tongue darted out to taste the water instinctively, and her heady scent made his breath catch in his gills.

Closing the distance between them, Maira pressed her lips to his, and Harry's mind went blank. He barely registered how soft and warm she felt before it was all over and she drew back, giving him a bashful smile. Her fingertips brushed the gills on his neck, making him shiver; then she whirled and took off, a vigorous swipe of her tail sending him several feet backwards.

Gobsmacked in more ways than one, Harry stared at her swiftly retreating form until she passed the illuminated area and disappeared into the gloomy waters beyond. His hand rose to touch his lips, and he realized with a start that he was grinning like a loon.

Coming to his senses, he shook his head furiously and turned his attention back to the village below, where his best friend was still held hostage. He had a task to finish.


	2. Chapter 2

The Black Lake didn't live up to its name in summer, Harry mused as he watched its smooth surface glimmer under the balmy May sun. It certainly looked more inviting than during that dreary February last year, and without the pressure of the Triwizard Tournament, another jaunt into its depths didn't seem quite as daunting.

Walking up to a gnarled alder growing near the shoreline, he faced his two companions. "Here's as good as any."

"You're still coming back, right?" Ron asked.

Hermione slapped his shoulder. "Of course he is! Don't even joke about something like that."

Ron raised his hands defensively. "I just figure with Umbridge running Hogwarts, the bloke might decide that living with the merfolk is a more pleasant prospect, is all."

Harry chuckled, patting the bag of gillyweed in his pocket. "Not that you're wrong, mate, but I can stay five hours tops. Don't wait for me out here, alright?"

"You know we will," Hermione said, wringing her hands. "What if something goes wrong?"

"It won't. I have it all planned out, remember?" It had taken him weeks to convince her that visiting the merpeople was a good idea; he didn't recall whether it was the argument about finding potential allies, or fostering relations with other Beings that finally did it. He couldn't resent her for worrying about him, however, no matter how annoying it was sometimes. "Er, excuse me, then."

He shuffled behind the tree self-consciously and started undressing, snorting when Ron hastened to cover Hermione's eyes as though protecting her chastity. His shirt and trousers followed his robes to a messy pile on the ground, at which Hermione tutted disapprovingly, leaving him in nothing but a pair of swimming trunks. He'd learned from his last outing that clothes would only encumber him, and this time he came prepared.

Emerging from behind the alder, he squeezed a palmful of gillyweed from the bag before sealing it back up and stuffing it into a pocket on his trunks. He raised his head to meet the eyes of his friends, who were watching him intently. "See you soon, yeah?"

"Oh, Harry, do be careful!" Hermione cried. She rushed forward—probably to give him a hug—but seemed to change her mind at the last moment and shook his hand instead, her cheeks pink.

Ron winked and gave him a shove. "Have fun," he whispered, making Harry wonder just how much of his true motivations his best mate had deduced.

Shivering in a slight breeze, Harry waded into the lake, treading carefully to avoid slipping on the slimy rocks. When he was up to his waist in water, he turned to wave at Ron and Hermione, then stuffed the gob of gillyweed into his mouth and chewed—as much as it was possible to chew a mass of mucous cords, anyway. When he felt he'd done as good a job as he could, he swallowed and tensed up in anticipation.

The transformation was swift and unrelenting. His ears rang, his pulse sped up, and his lungs wheezed, pumping air in and out yet failing to provide oxygen. His fingers and toes tingling as they grew webbings, Harry bent his knees and dived underwater.

To his transformed body, it felt like coming home. Foreign, half-forgotten smells and sounds assaulted his senses, which had acquired a distinctly inhuman quality. He could hear a crayfish crawling at the bottom through minuscule vibrations it created in the water, as much with his ears as his entire skin, and he could smell—and taste, to his intense disgust—the rotting reeds clogging the shoreline. He kicked off with barely a thought, seeking deeper waters that would let him breathe more freely.

A school of fish darted out of his way as he zoomed forward. The visibility was great due to the sunlight filtering through the water overhead, and he felt warm and comfortable despite his state of undress. Best of all, without the drag of sodden clothes, he found he could move faster and with less effort. It was almost as exhilarating as flying his Firebolt.

When even his enhanced eyes couldn't make out the lakebed anymore, he paused to get his bearings and reached back to pat his ankle. Satisfied that the obsidian dagger was tied securely, he flexed his body and nosedived in a manner that he reckoned wouldn't have embarrassed a merperson.

While he told his friends that the goal of his visit was returning the blade, that was nothing but a pretext—it was its owner he longed to see. Throughout the mayhem of the Tournament, he had focused on simply surviving, but later, in the lazy solitude of Privet Drive, he spent many a night contemplating the kiss he had shared with Maira. Was it just a prank for her, or did it mean something? _Could_ it mean something, considering they were of different species? Would she laugh at him, having come all the way down there to return a trinket she didn't want?

He shook his head in disgust at his own timidness, and leveled out before continuing onward. A fetid odor told him that the brownish plants swaying far below were infested with grindylows, and while he was certain his improved arsenal of spells would decimate the nasty critters, he'd rather not waste the little time he had.

He waited until the vegetation was replaced by yellowish silt before venturing lower. This deep, even his superior eyesight struggled with the lack of light, but that was what he was counting on: when he saw a faint glow to his right, he knew exactly where he needed to go.

So eager was Harry to arrive at his destination, that he underestimated the distance he had to surmount. When he finally approached the vast illuminated area where the merfolk dwelled, his muscles were burning with strain. His heart racing as much from exertion as from nervousness, he advanced towards the town, squinting at the inhabitants darting gracefully between their domed houses.

To say that his approach didn't go unnoticed would have been an understatement. It started with a single merman at the outskirts of the settlement, who upon spying him opened his mouth and released a cry so loud, its faint echo even carried to Harry's ears. The nearby merfolk quickly gathered to gawk, pointing and speaking to each other excitedly, and by the time he neared the town proper, their numbers grew to at least a hundred.

He gulped as he eyed the rows of merpeople, most floating upright, yet some sideways or upside-down, naked as the day they were born save for an occasional beaded bracelet or a shellfish necklace, their hair forming halos of grey, teal, purple. Despite the commotion, they seemed more curious than angry, and most appeared unarmed—save for three muscular men at the front who clutched bone-tipped spears.

Harry inched closer under the watchful gazes of the warriors. "Er, hi," he croaked, raising his empty hands. "I've come to—"

As soon as he crossed some invisible line, the warriors moved like lightning, surrounding Harry and pressing their spears against his neck, breastbone, and ribs. He gasped, releasing a trail of bubbles as his ears were filled with the merpeople's warbling—alarmed and upset, yet still oddly musical. The two younger warriors remained silent at Harry's sides, while the third, a towering man with grey eyes and a thick scar across his throat, spoke.

"You're trespassing, human." His voice was rough and grating, and held no warmth.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but to his shame, only a whimper escaped his lips. Clearing his throat, he tried again. "I've come to meet Maira!"

The warrior shook his head, making his white ponytail sway. "I don't know anyone by that name. And what would a human even want with one of our people?"

"I have something of hers—" Harry reached for the dagger, only to wince and straighten up when a spear-tip dug into his side. "You have to listen!"

"Humans don't come here unless it's to steal from our lake," the warrior said. "They never ask for permission. They see us as animals."

"I don't," Harry said with indignation. He racked his brain for a way to convince them. "Dumbledore! You speak to him, right? I bet _he_ treats you as equals!"

A shadow of a smile crossed the old warrior's lips. "Dumbledore is... different."

He felt a surge of hope. "Maybe I'm different too, eh? Just give me a chance."

The merman lowered the spear from Harry's neck to point it at his side, where his wand was tied to the waistband of his trunks. "If you were, you would not bring a wand into our home. It is an insult and a threat to our people."

Despite being hundreds of feet underwater, Harry could've sworn his mouth had gone completely dry. His fingers twitched as he suppressed an insane impulse to grab the eleven inches of holly and fight his way out. "Please—I didn't know—"

The warrior opened his mouth, but what he would've said Harry would never know, because at that instant, a lilting note pierced the water, and it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. _Maira_.

He tilted his head back to stare upwards, and there she was, arms outstretched, beating her lustrous tail mightily and descending like an angel from heaven—surely, given the situation, he could be forgiven the sappiness. Parting her lips to release an entirely human-like squeal of happiness, she barreled down at full tilt until she crashed into him, knocking him back and simultaneously dislodging any thoughts of her not wanting to see him from his head.

"Har-ree," she said, nuzzling her cheek against his and filling his vision with her floating violet mane.

"Maira." He grinned broadly and wrapped his arms around her, so elated to see her he didn't even get flustered at the skin contact.

The grizzled warrior spoke in the tongue of merfolk, and Maira straightened up to round on him. Shaking her little fist, she lilted and warbled while the towering merman listened stoically. When she finally ran out of steam, he turned his grey eyes upon Harry, who was still huddling on the gravelly bottom.

"The chieftainess's daughter vouches for you," he rumbled. "You may stay."

He gestured to the other warriors, who drew back their spears immediately, then swam into the village, the onlookers parting reverently before him. The two armed mermen hastened to follow, one shooting a suspicious glare at Harry over his shoulder.

Maira watched them depart with an almost imperious expression, her hands resting on the curves of her tail where a woman's hips would be. After they were gone, she made a shooing gesture at the rest of the crowd and unleashed another tirade. At her urging, the gawkers began to disperse, many pausing to give Harry one last curious look. Once they were left in relative privacy, Maira finally faced him, and any sign of haughtiness vanished from her youthful face.

"Har-ree," she said, smiling brilliantly. "I—miss—you."

He goggled at her. "You learned English?"

She furrowed her brows. "A little. Is hard. But want... talk. To you."

Harry's heart skipped a beat. The thought that this charming maiden went through all that trouble for him was immensely gratifying, and his mind went in dangerous directions, whispering that perhaps she too was interested in him in _that_ way... He shook his head.

Oblivious to his inner struggle, Maira mouthed more words in rehearsal before actually voicing them. "Why you... not come so long?"

"I was busy with school, and I can't leave my house during summer..." He shrugged at her confused look. "Sorry. It's complicated."

There was an awkward silence as Harry tried to think of a way to explain the Dursley situation before giving up the idea as futile. Then, recalling his alleged purpose for coming here, he perked up and reached for the rope fastening the obsidian blade to his ankle.

"I brought your dagger back," he said, extending it handle-first.

Maira accepted the weapon, ran her fingertip over the flat of the blade, and laughed musically. Beaming, she handed it back. "Gift."

"Are you sure?" he asked, clutching its cool handle. Maira nodded, and he smiled back at her. "Thank you."

In truth, he was relieved he'd get to keep the blade, both because it reminded him of her, and because it had as good as saved his life when he was disarmed during the third task. His only regret was that he hadn't thought to bring a gift of his own, and he resolved to do it next time. That there would _be_ a next time was already a foregone conclusion.

Maira looked around, scowling at the merfolk peeking at them from behind the houses in the distance. She wrapped her smaller hand around his and yanked him to an upright position. "Follow," she said, filling him with a sense of déjà vu.

He didn't hesitate this time, paddling after her at the leisurely pace she set. When he tried to snatch his hand back, she merely strengthened her grip, so he squeezed back gently and caught up. Being so close, he could feel water skim off her with every dexterous motion. He glanced her way surreptitiously, found her peering at him with a joyful smile, and looked away, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. Swimming side by side like this felt oddly intimate, and the way her slender body flexed and straightened was downright mesmerizing. A treasonous part of his mind whispered that she had filled out slightly since he'd seen her last, and he hoped his blush wasn't getting too evident.

He forced his attention back to the scenery. They had left the village behind, but not the illuminated area, which continued for quite a ways still. Below them were orderly patches of vegetation—from long, brownish weeds which wobbled in the currents, to green, round-leaved plants. The occasional merperson they saw unfailingly stopped whatever they were doing in order to gape at their passing.

The vegetation was gradually replaced by stone and gravel, and Harry craned up his neck to find that they were approaching a rock formation, scraggy and irregular, and different from the one they'd passed during the second task. Something brushed against his senses, and without conscious input, his tongue darted out to taste the water. He shivered, trying not to fixate on Maira's scent for it did wicked things to his body, and instead honed in on the weaker ones. Unless he was mistaken, there were merpeople ahead.

He fell back slightly, but Maira tugged on his hand and trilled soothingly. Together, they rose higher and swam between the jagged pillars jutting out of the bedrock below. The ghost lights were more sparse here, and the overgrown columns cast shadows all around, giving the place a somewhat sinister ambience. He glanced at Maira uncertainly, but she was looking around, her small pink tongue darting out between her lips. She swiftly changed directions, pulling him alongside, then came to a halt besides a towering crag.

Harry let go of her hand and edged closer. There were two merpeople nearby, so preoccupied that they remained oblivious to their presence. One was a teal-haired boy about Harry's age, although his brawny upper body put his own to shame. In his hand was a bone-tipped spear, the kind that Harry had the misfortune of familiarizing himself with, which he wielded with great proficiency as he darted between the stone pillars herding schools of panicked fish. The second was a mermaid with mauve hair and skin of pastel turquoise; she observed the boy, her hands clasped over her chest.

As he watched, the boy chased his prey up to a wall of rock and struck, extending his weapon more than his body-length ahead in an eyeblink. Once the fish scattered, it became apparent that one of them hadn't been quick enough, now wobbling feebly on his spear. The boy approached the girl with obvious pride and offered it to her.

The mermaid rubbed her hands, then unceremoniously ripped the small fish off the spear-tip and gobbled it down, squeezing her eyes shut in satisfaction. Harry's human mind was vaguely disgusted, but his stomach growled at the whiff of blood he caught in the water. Maira giggled, and the two strangers looked their way at last, their eyes widening.

For a minute, the water rang as the three merfolk conversed in their song-like language. Harry scrutinized the appearance of the newcomers with interest just as they did the same to him. Then Maira waved her hand at each of them in turn, warbling out a note, before pointing at him.

"Har-ree. Friends!"

Harry smiled at them uncertainly. "Harry," he said, pointing at himself. Then, at the girl and the boy, "Vivi. Naab."

Naab scowled at the undoubtedly shoddy imitation, but Vivi just giggled, fluttering her pale eyelashes. Harry looked away in discomfort; she was better endowed than Maira, and her breasts jiggled slightly with her movements. He was still getting used to seeing so much bare skin.

The youngsters continued to converse as they came closer and circled Harry. Naab was content to stare, but Vivi came up to touch him curiously: the frames of his glasses, the gills on the sides of his neck, the smooth synthetic fabric of his trunks. He froze up until Maira swatted her hand away, trilling chidingly. A moment later, the two girls dissolved into peals of laughter.

Naab's gaze lingered on the wand tied to his waist, and he extended a clawed finger, speaking demandingly. Maira turned Harry's way and scrunched up her brows.

"Show... magic?"

Harry retrieved his wand, regarding the merfolk who seemed to be watching with bated breath as he tried to think of a good spell. He settled for summoning the bluebell flames, deliberately pointing his wand away as he had no clue how the charm was going to react underwater.

It came out as a fiery floating sphere, and the merfolk exclaimed in delight as it tinted the surroundings in radiant azure. Harry poked it experimentally, noting that just like ordinary bluebell flames, it didn't burn his flesh, and the merpeople followed his example after some hesitation. Naab was the last to touch it, brushing his fingertips against the flames ever so carefully; there was an expression of wonder on his face, but at Harry's amused glance, he crossed his arms and huffed.

Maira clutched his forearm and wiggled her tail. "More, more!"

He was only too happy to oblige. Recalling Naab's prowess in hunting, he sought out another school of fish with his eyes, and focused on a small specimen at its edge. "Accio!"

The fish struggled but the spell was stronger, pulling it unrelentingly towards Harry. Once it was within arm's reach, he swiped at it with his hand, only to have it slip out of his fingers. He groaned in disappointment, but then Naab's clawed hand shot out and seized it before it could get away. Giving Harry a smug look, he gulped the squirming critter down.

"Show-off," Harry muttered, eliciting giggles from the girls.

Naab sized Harry up, then warbled. He swam down to lay his spear atop a flattened boulder before returning and speaking again.

Maira clapped her hands. "Play! Harry, play?"

"Sure," he said, grinning at her enthusiasm. "What are we going to play?"

She tapped her fingernail against her lips before pointing at herself. "I catch." She patted his shoulder. "You catch!"

He nodded, then swam over to poke Vivi's upper arm. "Now, Vivi catch?"

"Vivi catch!" Maira exclaimed and zoomed off, Naab following suit.

Harry wasted a second simply gawking, and another few tying his wand back to its improvised holster. Vivi, meanwhile, was twirling her tail to spin on the spot, her eyes covered with a palm. She was still doing it as he kicked off, but when he glanced over his shoulder moments later, she had stopped, her eyes zeroing in on him and her lips stretching into a smirk. Gulping, he put on speed.

He barreled towards an algae-covered pillar, then bent at the waist to circumnavigate it. Zigzagging left and right, he avoided crashing into more rocks by a hair's breadth; then, suddenly, he found himself in open water. His skin tingled with the sense of impending danger, and he corkscrewed instinctively, avoiding Vivi's charge by inches.

She made a long curve before advancing at him again, her gleaming fangs giving her a predatory look. Harry's heart beat faster as he raced back to hide in the labyrinthine rocks. He quickly realized he wasn't going to make it, so when his keen senses warned him that Vivi was at his heels, he curled into a ball before kicking upwards, hoping the sharp change in direction would throw her off. Alas, her slender yet strong fingers wrapped around his ankle, and he yelped as he was brought to an abrupt halt. She leered at him before sweeping him back with her flipper as she took off. There was a glimmer of turquoise scales between the jagged columns, then everything was still.

Despite his chagrin at being caught so quickly, he found himself grinning. He was getting the hang of this fascinating world, of hurtling through three-dimensional space, of his marvelously heightened senses. He adjusted his glasses absentmindedly, then reached for his wand and stuck them to his nose with a charm. Perhaps he wasn't going to win, but he would at least give these merfolk a decent fight. With that thought, he set off, tasting the water for his quarry.

The ensuing game would rank up there with his most memorable Quidditch victories. While an impostor like him was no match for the inherent finesse of someone who called the lake home, to his pleasant surprise, Harry discovered that he could give almost as good as he got. It just required an equal mix of agility and tactics.

Naab was a powerhouse, hurtling through the water like a torpedo, the turbulence left in his wake alone knocking Harry off course. The way to avoid getting tagged by him, Harry found, was sticking close to the rocks and exploiting the fact that the merman couldn't turn very quickly while moving at his impressive speed.

Maira was all dexterity and lissome grace, dancing in and out from cover and practically running circles around him if he made the mistake of huddling in place. In open water, however, he was capable of a short burst of speed that was more than her match. Recalling the surprised look on her face the first time he caught up to her made him smile every time.

The last of the trio was neither as swift nor as agile as the others, yet she was the one whom Harry had the most trouble with. She would match his motions as she stalked him, remaining invisible to his senses. She would lie in wait, deathly still so as not to disturb the water, until pouncing at him from behind. And, once she discovered how easily he was embarrassed by her nakedness, she exploited his weakness for all it was worth. The hand he extended towards her shoulder would instead brush her supple breast, and as he recoiled and stammered, she would tag him right back, cackling at his stupefied expression. It was mortifying, but he was having the time of his life nevertheless.

Once their movements grew sluggish and their attempts less spirited, the quartet gathered in the middle of the labyrinthine rock formation, their gills pulsing with exertion, but their faces shining. Naab recovered his spear and went off to hunt, whereas the other three rested.

Harry surreptitiously swallowed a single cord of gillyweed from his bag, watching Vivi drift past lazily. Noticing his attention, she shimmied her shoulders coquettishly, making her breasts sway, and he wrenched his gaze away. Her laughter rang in his ears.

Maira seemed to have noticed too, for she trilled at her friend indignantly. The two girls had a short argument, which ended with Maira glancing down at her own chest, then at Harry, and crossing her arms with a huff.

"Harry, stupid," she said.

This sent Vivi into another fit of laughter, and left Harry scratching his head as to what exactly he'd done to offend her.

Naab returned, the four large fish impaled on his spear trailing crimson, and the girls perked up. He yanked the fish off, handing one to each of them, before proceeding to gut the fourth one with the tip of his weapon.

"Cheers," Harry said dubiously, pinching it by the fin. Naab gave him an amiable nod before returning to his work.

Vivi sliced the belly of her fish using a sharpened bit of bone on her bracelet and scooped out the innards before digging in. Harry watched her crunch on it with relish, until a pat on his shoulder shook him out of his queasy fascination. Turning, he jerked back a little when he saw Maira's face inches away from his.

She pouted at his reaction, then pointed at the dagger on his ankle. "Borrow?"

"Be my guest." He handed it over.

Harry half-expected her to devour the fish whole like her friends did, but her actions, while possessing the same brutal efficiency, were almost refined. She gutted it, discarded the bowels, and scraped off the scales before slicing its flesh into neat strips and placing them one by one into her mouth. Swallowing, Harry glanced at his own supposed meal and tried fruitlessly to recall any cooking spell that would be applicable.

A slight disturbance washed over his skin as Maira approached again. She regarded him thoughtfully, then snatched the fish from his hands and proceeded to prepare it like she had hers. The odor of blood grew thicker, and his stomach rumbled traitorously. Maira looked up with a grin, then extended a morsel of pink flesh between her delicate claws.

"I'm—I'm good," he yelped.

Frowning, she brought the morsel up to his lips, but he turned his head aside. She trilled in amusement and popped it into her own mouth, humming in contentment before swallowing and licking her lips. Despite himself, Harry followed her every movement hungrily.

She sliced off another strip and offered it to him, her eyes glinting with mischief. Harry's resistance was crumbling; it was raw, it had bits of skin dangling off its sides, but man, did it smell _good_.

"At least let me cook it," he said weakly.

She brought the piece to his lips, and the tang of what his body knew to be a fresh meal tickled his nose. "Harry. Aah," she sang into his ear, making him shiver.

"Oh, Merlin," he muttered, staring cross-eyed at her hand. Squeezing his eyes shut, he opened his mouth.

The tips of her fingers dipped in, placing something soft and juicy on his tongue. He bit down reflexively, and his eyes flew open at the explosion of flavor. The flesh was tender, fatty, almost sweet—the skin chewy and more savory, but no less delectable. He swallowed, then ran his tongue over his teeth, feeling an urge to sink them into live prey.

"You like?" Maira asked, bending down to cut another bit.

"Mm. I definitely do," he said. Before she fully raised her hand, he leaned down and captured her outstretched fingers with his lips, deftly snatching the morsel from between them.

Maira squeaked in surprise, then giggled. Her laughter was echoed a second later, and the two turned to find Naab and Vivi regarding them with wide grins. His cheeks heating up, Harry scooted away from Maira as she did the same.

Vivi jabbed her fingers into the remains of her fish and clawed out an irregular lump of flesh, which she extended to Naab. Looking amused, the young hunter mimicked Harry's example, which, judging from Vivi's titters, pleased her greatly.

Harry snorted at their antics, then shifted restlessly. As reluctant as he'd been, that first taste made him realize just how hungry he was. Maira was only too happy to serve him, appearing delighted at his sudden appetite, and the two polished off their meal in companionable silence.

Sated at last, Harry burped then covered his mouth in embarrassment as Maira giggled at his side. He sheepishly accepted the knife back, and cleaned it with magic before tying it to his ankle. Noticing Maira's fingers glisten with fat, he waved his wand over them with a muttered _Tergeo_ ; she rubbed her fingertips curiously before giving him a grateful smile.

A soft moan made him look over. Naab held Vivi in a one-armed embrace, kissing her as he brazenly groped her breasts. Harry gawked openly for a few long moments until his mind caught up with what he was seeing and he ducked his head. His face burned. He strongly considered fleeing, but the decision was made for him when Vivi chirped something. Glancing up warily, he saw the two lovers whisk off, flapping their tails in unison. Naab glanced back to give Harry a quick signal he didn't understand.

Motionless as a statue, Harry stared at the way they had left, his mind providing salacious and entirely unhelpful speculations of what the two were doing right now. He was acutely aware of Maira floating a few feet to his right. The silence between them was laden with tension, and when he gave her a sideways glance, he saw that for once, she appeared as abashed as he was.

He put away his wand, then fidgeted with his gillyweed bag just to have something to do. When he glanced at Maira again, he caught her peeking at him, and she averted her eyes, her cheeks tinged lavender. That made him even more embarrassed, but he felt it was somehow his duty to defuse the awkwardness. He opened his mouth to speak. Trouble was, he didn't know what to say, so all he achieved was imbibing a mouthful of water.

A jolt went through his body as his tongue interpreted the bouquet of smells without being told to. There was a remainder of their meal, a whiff of life that called these rocks home, yet it was dominated by something he knew very well at this point. Maira's scent, but subtly different. Heavier, more vivid, almost... carnal.

His nostrils flared as he faced her. She was frozen in place, and her eyes darted side to side avoiding his. He kicked his right leg to drift closer, until they were inches apart, and stopped, vacillating, awaiting any sign that she was feeling—well, _this_ —too.

Her tongue darted out and her breathing seemed to hitch. She met his gaze, peering at him with deep purple eyes, then shoved him in the chest, hard. He didn't even have the time to feel dismay at her apparent rejection before her lips quirked into a smile.

" _Catch_ ," she said huskily, then pivoted on the spot and scampered off, nearly smacking him with her tail.

His knees flexed, then straightened, propelling him after her before his rational mind had a chance to assess the situation. Her sleek body glided through the water ahead, and as clumsy as he was in comparison, he managed to close in on her through sheer power; then she swung her limber tail to maneuver around a pillar, and regained her lead. Harry barreled towards the rocky column and kicked off its slick surface for a burst of speed, but it did little to help him for Maira switched directions, bending nimbly to dive through a stone arch.

Harry dashed over it, barely feeling his knee scrape against an extruding shard of rock, his eyes narrowing at the willowy form of his quarry. She didn't waste time glancing back; that she recognized his strength, his capacity to match her, was gratifying indeed. He went higher still, passing over the jutting-out rocks as she zigzagged between them; he would allow her to exhaust her stamina, then swoop down from above.

The glimmer of her blue scales vanished under a crag, and Harry veered left, circling overhead like a shark. Hiding wasn't going to work—her scent drew him like a beacon. He dived.

The water in the alcove roiled with sediment, obscuring his vision for an instant, and he felt more than saw her pass by. He gave chase as she tried to take refuge between the rocky outcroppings again, finding that despite her superior agility, he wasn't falling back too badly.

His lips twisted into a grin. As exhilarating as the tag game had been, this hunt—spurred by something primal, something he couldn't yet name—was on an entirely different level. His legs pumped furiously, his lungs heaved like bellows, yet he didn't feel a hint of fatigue as his eyes tracked the tantalizing glimpses of his prize. Her flowing movements, the billowing cloud of her violet hair, the gleam of her scales—he wanted to capture her, embrace her, and... he didn't know _what_ , exactly, but his body, hunter's blood singing in its veins, certainly seemed to have a few ideas.

A shadowy cliff loomed in their path, and Harry kicked harder, hoping he had her cornered. Yet upon reaching it, Maira curved upwards sharply, nearly skimming the algae-covered rock. At its top, she arched her body and dived to the other side with grace that put his best Wronski feint to shame. Harry surmounted the cliff just in time to see her disappear down a shadowy hole at its base with a whisk of her tail. He plunged in without hesitation.

Darkness swallowed him, and his outstretched palms hit rough stone painfully. He scrabbled around, then squeezed through a narrow bend that was perilously located right past the cavern's mouth. If Maira thought this cramped cave would slow him, she was sorely mistaken; he could _taste_ her weariness, and knew his victory was imminent.

The passage expanded into a circular grotto, lit faintly by a crevice in its roof, and he threw out his webbed palms to halt at its entrance. Maira had her back pressed against the far wall, the gills on her slender neck pulsing rapidly. There was no other way out as far as he could see, and he knew he had her cornered at last. A part of his mind questioned why she would lead him to a dead-end, but he discarded the thought as irrelevant.

He approached cautiously, almost expecting her to dodge past him, but she merely peered at him with wide eyes, her lips parted and revealing her slightly elongated fangs. Traversing the last few feet, he planted his palms against the wall on either side of her slim shoulders and ran his eyes up and down. Her violet hair glinted in the feeble rays of light from above, her pale skin was flushed, and her chest heaved, her perky breasts rising and falling. This close, her musk was downright intoxicating, and he didn't think he could fight the frenzy it drove his body into for long.

So he didn't. Bending down, he did the only thing that made sense and kissed her, claiming the spoils of his victory.

Her lips were plush and tender, but the ardor she responded with was anything but; her nails dug into his shoulders, yanking him closer and making him gasp. Her tongue took that as an invitation into his mouth, and after a split-second of stunned disbelief, he decided that felt quite lovely and reciprocated in kind. Their movements were as tentative as they were greedy, charged with passion unlike the peck they shared last year, and neither of them seemed to be able to stop. It was a wonderful thing that possessing a pair of gills meant not having to come up for air.

As she leaned in to capture his lower lip between hers, her nipples brushed his chest, reminding him that there was so much of her nubile body to explore. His palms skimmed down her shoulders to her breasts, cupping them lightly before giving them a tentative squeeze.

The little noise she made in response was more erotic than anything he'd heard in his life, and he was eager to elicit more. He met her smoldering eyes before peppering kisses down to her breasts, feeling her shiver under his touch. His tongue looped a languid spiral around one of her perky mounds, gliding against her silky skin until ending its journey by flicking her hardened nub.

Another sensual mewl escaped her throat, and she sank her fingers into his hair, arching her back and pushing her chest into his face. Encouraged, he lavished her breasts with attention. She squirmed under his ministrations, the slight motions of her flipper sending her drifting. He growled, more in frustration at losing contact than the pain of her pulling on his hair, and squeezed her tail between his knees to keep her still. Her scales were firm and smooth, and he could feel the rippling muscles underneath. Overtaken by curiosity, he slid his palms down her sides, marveling at how soft skin gave way to scales as he moved below her slender waist.

"Is... weird?" Maira asked quietly.

Startled, he looked up to find her staring. "No. You're beautiful." It came as a surprise to himself, how certain he sounded.

Beaming, she snaked her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. Her body glided against his, and he groaned into her mouth as his erection was sandwiched between them. Maira drew back and glanced down, her eyes widening at the obvious tent in his trunks. She reached out hesitantly, caressing him with her fingertips, and even that feathery contact made him shiver.

She bared her fangs mischievously. "I make you like this."

A laugh bubbled up in his throat at how smug she sounded, but it changed into a hiss when her hands resumed their exploration, tracing the contours of his cock through the thin fabric. She crooked one finger behind the waistband and pulled before letting it snap back, then gave him a bewildered glance.

"No buttons?"

This time, he did laugh. She frowned cutely, and when he patted her head, it merely seemed to confuse her more.

"Clothes. Stupid," she complained.

He was inclined to agree, for any barrier separating them was a travesty. "You just pull them down," he said, gesturing. "Want to give it a try?"

She nodded and bent lower, making his heart race. Hooking her fingers underneath the waistband, she tugged down. His cock sprang up, bobbing slightly, and Maira's mouth formed a small 'O'.

"Yours is..."

"Yes?" he asked, a little apprehensive. No girl had ever seen him naked, after all.

She turned her doe eyes up at him. "Big. Very, very."

"Oh." A grin stretched across his cheeks as he kicked his trunks off. He doubted his size bore special mention, but perhaps there were differences between mermen and humans in this area.

"I... touch?" she asked.

His member twitched at her words, and he groaned, "Please."

She smiled, appearing to regain some of her earlier audacity, and traced his length with her fingertips. His breath quickened at the contact, and he twitched again. There was an expression of wonder on her face as she glanced at him before returning to her careful investigation. Her movements gradually grew bolder, and he unwittingly thrust his hips forward in search for more of that sweet stimulation.

She met his eyes and snaked her right arm under his armpit to pull herself closer. Her left hand tightened around his shaft as she snuggled up to him, but their bodies bumped and drifted apart again. Mewling in frustration, she embraced him with both arms, planting her hands on his shoulder blades and squishing her breasts against his chest. Her tail flicked, sending her lower body towards his and trapping his erection between their bellies before she rebounded an inch away once more.

"Hold me," she urged.

He wrapped his hands around her waist, then went lower. Warm skin was replaced by hard scales, but he could feel pliant flesh underneath; he gave it an experimental squeeze, eliciting a shiver from Maira.

Steadied by his arms, she repeated her earlier motion, gently sliding up and down his body. Her tail flexed, its fin slipping between his ankles and its upper half rubbing his thighs. She whined impatiently, her movements becoming more urgent.

Harry grimaced as her scales chafed his privates; while not exactly painful, it wasn't pleasant either. "What are you— _oh_."

His breath hitched as the crown of his member was suddenly engulfed by something snug and hot. Maira froze mid-motion and whimpered, arching her back, and he stared down at where their bodies were joined. A little below her humanoid half was a cleft, unnoticed previously among the glitter of her scales; he glimpsed pale pink walls and smaller inner lips, parted slightly by his cock.

She writhed impatiently, and that was all the encouragement he needed. Holding on to her behind, he worked his hips to push in little by little. Maira mewled and clutched his shoulders at his every motion, and a groan escaped his own lips once he was fully sheathed within her. Her wet heat, her scent which seemed to have intensified tenfold, her warm body in his arms; the sensations overwhelmed his mind, and primal instincts prevailed.

Gripping the hip-like curves of her tail, he drew back a fraction, then thrust in, barely suppressing another groan. Maira's half-lidded eyes shot open, and she gasped.

"You alright?" he whispered.

"Slow," she said. "Slow."

He gently repeated his earlier motion, then again, struggling to maintain the torturously slow pace when all he longed for was to _fuck_ her with abandon.

"Harry... fill me..." She hugged him tighter, her hair floating in a cloud before his face.

Feeling tension leave her body, he squeezed her tail between his legs for additional leverage and moved faster. The delicious friction of her walls was driving him crazy. "Like—like that?"

"Yes... yes!" she breathed in his ear.

Plunging in and out of her, he gritted his teeth; how one was supposed to last in such a situation was a mystery. He just hoped he was making her feel as good as she him.

She nuzzled his neck, trilling something that he fancied he could almost comprehend. The pleasure of her slick heat was becoming unbearable, and he felt himself approach the point of no return. His will crumbled and he let loose, pumping into her with frantic need. Her hands tightened around his shoulders as she whimpered her approval.

One last thrust buried him to the hilt, and he groaned as he spent himself inside her. When he could think again, he withdrew gingerly, panting for breath despite his gills working overtime.

Maira let go, a perplexed expression on her flushed face. She glanced down and gasped softly at a stray glob of cum in the water. "You... finish?" she asked in a breathless tone.

He winced. "Er, yeah. It wasn't—it wasn't, um, good for you?"

She trilled throatily. "Was good. Very."

"Oh. That's... good." He ducked to retrieve a handful of gillyweed, then resealed the bag before reclining to scarf the slimy strings down. Despite being at the top of the world moments earlier, all he felt now was a vague sense of shame. "Sorry. You felt so amazing I couldn't hold back."

Maira swam up to him and nestled his arm between her breasts. "A-ma-zing? Not weird?"

"After all that, do you really need to ask?" Seeing the confusion on her face, he added, "No, not weird. What about me?"

Her brows drew together. "Weird, a little."

"Hey!"

"Two legs. Weird!" she insisted. "But, swim good. I try very much, but you catch."

Grinning wryly, he held up a cord of gillyweed. "I doubt I'd be as good without this, but thanks."

Maira extended her neck to sniff the coiling plant, then wrinkled her nose.

He chuckled before slurping it down like a noodle. "Yeah, it's nasty, but it's what allows me to stay here."

She rested her head on his chest. "You stay?"

"A while longer, yeah," he said, glancing towards his dwindling supply.

"Then..." She glanced at him with upturned eyes. "Make me feel good, more?"

He blinked— _of course_ , if he didn't get it right the first time, he could just try again. What a novel and utterly delightful idea. "Absolutely. Just, er, give me a couple of minutes." He glanced down sheepishly.

She followed his gaze, then perked up and chirped, "I help!"

"Help?"

Maira wriggled down his body, resting her palms on his thighs and peering at his half-limp member with undisguised interest. "I see Vivi do with Naab."

His eyebrows rose. "You spied on them?"

"Not spy! Accident!"

"Okay, okay. Do what, exactly?" His mind ran wild even as he spoke the words.

She ignored him, inching closer to his cock with a look of intense concentration; her proximity alone made him stiffen. Then she lowered her lips and _kissed_ it, her tongue skimming his sensitive skin. Harry jerked, making her look up.

"Was bad?"

"Not _bad_ ," he assured, and his voice must've betrayed the effect she had on him, for she smiled toothily and returned to her ministrations.

She was timid at first, peeking at him to gauge his reaction, but quickly grew more daring. Her tongue darted out, poking him, licking up and down his length, trailing the ridge of his crown. In no time at all, he was raring to go. Maira didn't seem to care; parting her lips, she bent down to take the head of his cock into her hot mouth.

"Enough," he grunted, and when she didn't react, reached out to stroke her hair.

Her eyes were glazed over as she let go of him with a soft pop. "Our scent... mix together..."

The sight made him growl. "C'mhere," he said gruffly. "I want to make you feel good too."

There was less fumbling this time as they embraced and she guided him inside her. He grunted as he was enveloped by her welcoming heat, and had to pause and take a breath before he felt capable of moving.

He started slow, gentle, but Maira had other ideas. Her tail flexed under his palms as she made little back-and-forth bounces, spurring him on. His teeth gritted as he increased his pace, trying to match her; the sensation of her folds wrapped around his sensitive cock was breathtaking.

Sweet whimpers were his reward as she hugged him tighter, her erect nipples pressing against his chest. Her gills pulsed with her breath, sending her violet locks aflutter.

"Maira," he gasped, "you feel so good."

She tossed her head back. "Harry, too..."

Her fin fluttered back and forth, urging him on; he didn't know if he could keep up, but damned if he wasn't going to give it his best shot. He paused to hook his ankles behind the lower end of her tail.

"No stop," she moaned, wriggling.

He backed an inch before driving into her, and her lips parted in a gasp. With the additional leverage, he could go harder, and from the way she mewled every time the tip of his cock kissed her deepest spot, she rather enjoyed it.

"Yes, yes... yes!" she sang, her voice jumping an octave with each word. Her fingers scrabbled along his shoulder blades, then dug into them, and she began bouncing against him again.

It took a minute for them to match their rhythm, but once they had, it was as if their bodies had joined in a blissful dance. No longer braced against the floor, they were sent adrift in the twilit grotto, but Harry barely noticed; the gorgeous creature in his arms had become the center of his world.

Her whimpers were like music to his ears, and the way her pussy clenched around him with every stroke, as if not wanting to let go, tested the limits of his endurance. He bowed his head to rest his forehead against hers. Her lashes fluttered as her hazy gaze met his, and she let out a trill that was neither English nor merfolk tongue, but a more universal language. Seeing her so overtaken by pleasure was incredibly gratifying.

Maira's bounces were becoming erratic, irregular, and he grabbed onto her pliant behind to steady her as he continued thrusting. The way her inner muscles kept squeezing him threatened to undo him at any second, but he willed himself to hold off.

Their flesh slapped together in several more frantic thrusts, and Maira cried out, arching her back to engulf his entire length. He barely registered her nails raking his back as she clamped around his cock, driving any lucid thought from his mind.

"Oh, _fuck_ ," he grunted in astonishment, before he went over the edge. Her pussy contracted and relaxed rapidly, sucking him in, and there was little he could do but hold on for the ride, groaning in mindless pleasure.

Even after he was spent completely, he felt her continue to clench as if intent on milking him for every last drop. He raised a hand to brush her hair away from her face and stared at her dazed expression with wonder and no small amount of pride. There would be no need for questions of whether it was good for her this time.

Gradually, her slender body ceased trembling in his arms, and her purple eyes regained focus. He gazed at her adoringly, trying to communicate something which mere words seemed insufficient for.

"Har-ree," she spoke haltingly. "That was... was..." She warbled softly.

"I rather agree," he said languidly, and planted a kiss on her forehead.

They separated, and Maira snuggled into his side, crooning something which sounded vaguely like a song. He hugged her around the shoulders, watching her with lazy contentment.

Her nostrils flared, and she glanced around before zeroing in on his shoulder. She caressed his skin carefully, then turned her wide eyes at him.

"Sorry... hurt?"

He tilted his head in bewilderment before realizing she was talking about the scratches on his back. Chuckling heartily, he stroked her silky hair. "Don't worry about it." If anything, it was a trophy—proof that he'd managed to make her lose control. Admittedly, explaining the nature of his wounds to his friends might take some effort.

Lifting his hand from her head, he took a gander at the webbing between his fingers and sighed; it was time to renew the transformation. While he wanted to do nothing but fall asleep with her in his arms, he couldn't forget that he was but a guest in this world. Reluctantly leaving her embrace, he went for his bag and squeezed the last of the gillyweed out. He swallowed it before retrieving his swimming trunks and returning to Maira.

"I have to go soon," he said apologetically.

"No," she moaned, dismay practically written on her face. "Come, when?"

He contemplated his schedule. Lessons, detention, homework... being banned from Quidditch almost seemed like a blessing now. "Friday next week—that's in six days." She pouted at his words, and he added quickly, "Sorry. I really can't make it during any other weekday, and I'm out of gillyweed to boot."

"Then... I come?" she asked.

"You?" He stared at her. Unless the merfolk had discovered the opposite of gillyweed, he couldn't see how that was possible.

She nodded vigorously. "I swim!"

"Er..."

"Swim, to castle," she said, gesticulating. "Dark cave, smell of mold. Wall, iron hooks. Little humans float on dead wood, every year."

He furrowed his brows as she watched him expectantly, then exclaimed, "The dock!" Having no reason to come there since his first year, he'd forgotten it existed.

" _Dock_ ," she repeated, rolling the word around her mouth. "I come? Tomorrow?"

"Yeah," he found himself answering. It looked like he had a way to meet Maira—his _lover_ —regularly. His mind was already devising a plan involving his invisibility cloak and creative excuses to his friends. "Once it gets dark, alright?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What am I doing with my life...


End file.
